Disappearing Acts
by EgyptsStar
Summary: She wanted to escape and erase the past, but a post hogwarts chance meeting between enemies dredges up the past in an unpredictable way: and it seems like everyone has something to hide. My annual DMHG holiday ficlet. Intense lemons abound.
1. The Man in the Mirror

London, England: December 31, 2011 AD, 2:00AM

She viciously rode my pulsing member as she arched her back in wild abandon. There was no mistaking the scent of her obvious arousal which slid down my hardened length. Slick and pungent as morning dew, her sweet core called to me—drew me in, suckled me as I thrust deeply. She squealed as I felt her cervix lick the tip of me, causing me to reflexively pull back in an effort to give her some relief, but she defiantly widens her legs and sinks back into her former position.

The center of her love had somehow adjusted for me—made itself an abyss in order to swallow me whole. The tip of me could feel tension as muscle gave way, but her sheath continued to form a seal around me, tighter if that was even possible. Moist heat gyrated around me, seeking my life, my seed. I couldn't give way yet, as I wanted to savor the moment.

Her opening to me. The sweet surrender within her caress.

What was once inaccessible to me then was nowa thing of the past-- she no longer denied me.

It was with these thoughts that I spilled within her, flooded her with my seed. Triumph spread from the root where my balls lay to the smirk on my face as she herself orgasmed with the same force as I.

So as we came down from a shared euphoric moment, she gave me a brief kiss before dismounting me. It was my cue, my knee jerk reaction.

To leave.

I begin to gather various articles of clothing off of the bedroom floor to begin dressing. I had catapulted us into the aftermath.

Who am I kidding? There was no aftermath…not for me.

The woman began to frown in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I answered as I pulled my boxers and pants on followed by my shirt. I went into the mirror to check my hair.

Not a platinum strand out of place.

Although the conquest was initially difficult, I realized in hindsight that it was actually easy…

I didn't even break a sweat.

"It was fun." I say as I walk towards the bedroom door. "See you soon."

She wordlessly nodded, as she knew as well as I that soon would never come. Hurt and resentment flashed in her eyes as I left, but who has a right to feel that way?

When full disclosure is involved.

Well, indirectly, as I never said anything, but deep down she suspected—she knew. So I leave with conscience clear, and dick well sated.

The brisk chill caresses my cheek as I seek refuge in the darkness of the night. A subtle pop signals yet another bittersweet end to one of my chronicles as a player. The game had lost its flavor.

This is me, the man in the mirror.

Welcome to my aftermath.


	2. The Flower in The Attic

Prague, Czechoslovakia: December 31, 2011 AD, time unknown.

There was never a time where I thought that I would be alone. I mean look at me. I was the girl that all girls envied—even admired, during the high points of my life. I have graduated to the ranks of womanhood with much of the same, but I am different.

Changed somehow, because my heart had been broken; and there was no Harry to soothe my fears, no Ron to make me laugh, no Hagrid to make me feel worthwhile or beautiful…

Because they did not survive, the cause of my first heartbreak.

There was nothing that I could do about the events that led up to that, so I made peace with it long ago. The final battle seems like light years ago, instead of only six years ago. Light prevailed over dark, but if you ask me, there were no winners.

Voldemort was no more, but each side lost a vital piece of themselves.

Their husbands….

Their wives….

Children…..

Their lovers – and friends.

Ironically, a lot of these people had lost their loved ones long before the final war, since the war was naught but a formality. I still had a few people though. I had Professor Lupin. I had Ginny.

I thought I had someone else, but they somehow eluded me. Of course they would.

The heat became too much, the scrutiny a heavy cross to bear—but that was six years ago.

The scars lay skin deep, but time has healed all wounds. From the ashes I am reborn.

This is tricky, since to be reborn… one must assume a new identity….

Put the past away….with a few exceptions.

And so, I close the book on what once was, and embrace an alternate path. I can no longer be that girl—

The flower in the attic.

I will write in this book no more. Life is meant to be lived.

- "Bloom"

* * *

A/N: I suppose that everyone is wondering why in the world am I starting another story when I have a perfectly good one dying to be updated. Well, in the spirit of Celebrity Skin I decided to write another 'holiday' quick fic since I enjoyed it so much last year. There is no hard or fast rule, but one should expect this to be updated daily and be done by the New Year (or around that time). Anyway...

A) Chapters 1 and 2 are merely preludes to display the mindset of the characters.

B) Resurrection IS STILL IN THE MAKING and the plot thickens. It's just becoming more and more difficult to write in all its complexity. Ah well, I made my bed... so I'll lie in it.

Chapter 3 is next, so hopefully by then you will have enough thoughts for a review. It would be nice to hear from all of you.

Cheers and happy holidays,

NB


	3. Face Off

**Warning: Lemons abound.. it's rated M. 'Nuff said.**

* * *

Copenhagen, Denmark: February 1, 2012 AD. 11PM. 

A blanket of silence coated the Danish streets as a lone figure walked along the cobblestone road. Footsteps reverberated with a rhythm which appeared slow and sure. The shadow of the figure was the cut of a very fine man. Somewhere in his early to mid twenties, his skin was firm and glistening with vitality. There was a bit of a swagger in the way he walked, and it was this sense of carelessness that would have allowed a normal observer, if present, to believe that this person was in no hurry. It was actually the contrary.

Draco Malfoy was very lost and consequently, very annoyed.

'Bloody wanker, trust Rik to give me the wrong address.' He reached into his pocket to scan the piece of parchment once more.

_Ekvipagemestervej 346, Holmen_

It seemed simple enough. 344... 345… 347.

Where was 346?

He had passed by this area three times already and was beginning to grow weary of the whole thing. All he wanted to do was unwind during his trip to Copenhagen.

Mix in a spot of R & R with business. His friend Ulrik, a native, recommended the place.

"Ah, well no matter." Draco said to no one in particular. He was getting ready to call it a night, when he remembered Rik mentioning a fine detail.

'This place is great, it's literally underground. The address was based on some rudimentary math, since there really is no such 'physical place' as 34**6**.'

"Oh shit."

Figures that one of the few times he'd chosen to listen to Ulrik had actually been to his benefit. Draco walks up to the entrance of 347.

'This should be right… 7-4 is 3, and 3 plus 3 is 6.' He shrugged. It made absolutely no sense to Draco, but who was he to challenge the Danish? _Muggle_ Danish at that.

He just wanted to get laid.

He used the brass doorknocker to request entrance. A small part of the upper portion of the door revealed a pair of menacing obsidian eyes, with a gruff voice to match.

"Passwordet"

"Give ild og Is" (Fire and Ice)

With that, the door swung open to reveal a completely black room drenched in purple light. It reminded Draco of those Goth clubs Blaise used to drag him to.

Bloody nonsensical man. Now was not the time to think about him and his antics. The bouncer bowed his head in greeting as he spoke. He was a tall, well-dressed, broad man with dirty blonde hair who looked like he had his nose broken one too many times.

"Velkommen hen til Skjult Nydelse." (Welcome to Secret Pleasures)

In kind, Draco slightly inclines his head. "Reservering nemlig Malfoy." (Reservation for Malfoy)

"Ak! Vi har blevet venter jer, Hr. Malfoy. Hr. Christensen er jeres sponsor Ja?" (Ah! We have been expecting you, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Christensen is your sponsor yes?)

Another well dressed man comes to take Draco's coat before he forms his reply. "Ja. Taler du engelsk?" (Yes. Do you speak English?)

Draco wasn't in the mood to muddle through formalities. He wanted to get to the action.

"Ja, I do."

The young heir haughtily produces a crisp 50 Krone bank note. "Good, keep at it."

The bouncer furrows his eyebrows confusedly as Draco exits the foyer to enter the main portion of the club.

Studio lights flooded the dark atrium which was divided into multiple unlabeled tunnels. By instinct, he is guided through the second tunnel on the left which seems to hold the theme of taboos and fetishes. Everything under and over the sun in the realm of S & M, bondage, voyeurism, bestiality, necrophilia (and the list goes on and on) was present in their designated alcoves. Right outside of these, there were people who congregated to simply socialize and savor the scent of sex permeating the air with its pungency and promises of reckless ecstasy. In this spirit, Draco chose to explore his surroundings, opening a large purple door.

The door slid shut as Draco entered the room. It was a rectangular space dimly lit by candlelight and the small glare that came from the glass wall which spanned 10 out of the 12 feet comprising the room. Draco continued his journey to find something every interesting behind the glass.

A couple.

Their playground was shrouded in opulence. Cream carpeting provided a solid foundation for the king-sized four poster mahogany bed set in the room's center. Decorated with an Arabian theme, plush pillows, satins, silks and sheer crepes of royal colors flooded the enclosure, including the four posters of the bed. Cloaked in sheer drapings, the schema did little to cover the true treasure of the room.

That was the purpose wasn't it?

It was a voyeur's paradise, leaving nothing to the imagination. No comprehension necessary. Just pleasure… just release.

Eager to enjoy the show, Draco moved to sit and recline on the strategically placed black leather couch. Everything was well underway.

Strawberry blonde tresses covered muscled thighs and middle. A faint view of her lips furiously bobbing up and down a hardened member was the only evidence of her face. Creamy feminine shoulders and sloped back led to the limited side view of a backside continuous with another face. It was obvious that this man was well occupied as he paid homage between her thighs. Moans of arousal could be heard through the sound system feeding into Draco's side of the room. He spreads his legs in anticipation while deftly unzipping his fly to free his partly awakened self.

Draco's hands begin its ministrations as his eyes flit back to the glass. The woman's back, long hair, and derriere teased him whilst she rode her companion. Draco smirked and firmly palmed his erection in the same instant the woman leaned forward in order to increase her gyrations. Her ass is cupped at once to facilitate the man who was urgently pounding into her with each upstroke of his pelvis. Her squeals of delight tickle Draco—he knows she is playing with her prey. His thoughts reflect his feelings.

'She is riding him like a thoroughbred. Good girl…cum for me…hmm… magnificent.'

Precum provides slippery friction to Draco's hands as both sides continue to stimulate themselves. Although the show was quite charming, his eyes were yet still ravenous.

He needed more—he wanted more.

To see her face….her breasts… her sex. Taste her in his minds eye.

Little did he know that his silent prayer was about to be answered.

Her brazen softness was challenged by the brute strength that swiftly flipped her onto her back. She would have fallen over the foot of the bed if not for the strong pair of hands about her waist pulling her wanton depths straight onto his burgeoning phallus. The curly hair atop her pubis matched the ends of her tresses making contact with the floor upon her extension to finally reveal her ample bosom capped by cherry red nipples. Hooded lids framed an angelic face oval and smooth. Rouge lips were moistened by its native tongue, speaking its own language…

"Oh yes baby… **fuck me _hard_!**…"

"God I want you to cum inside me so bad… mmm…"

Incredibly turned on by her words, Draco closed his eyes as felt his seed threatening to start, squeezing the tip of his penis roughly to maintain control. Not yet, he told himself.

'_I _want to cum with her… _I_ want to cum inside of her.'

And so he held himself as he watched her scream gyrate and moan. Her eyes were still closed so she did not know that she was being watched in her wild abandon, but her male companion flittingly acknowledged the presence of the blonde spectator while suckling his little strawberry's nipples. He possessed her lush body as a stallion would a mare, grunting as he pumped in and out of her. He wanted to conquer, so she gave him the illusion of being the conqueror. It was all good…

Just as long as he did what she wanted… and how she wanted it.

She loved the feel of a man inside her. The fullness that came with the male sex was absolutely amazing and gratifying. It came with the gift of the "little death"—shards of beautiful climax that allowed her to come out of herself. She was always escaping herself.

She _needed_ to come out of herself.

And what better way to do this than with a stranger? She preferred no strings, it was cleaner that way.

However, she forgot being clean right now. She was a woman on a mission: a dirty girl.

"Oh yeah baby… let me squeeze you dry…"

"YES!…. DEEPER! YES!" She feels a droplet of sweat begin to make its slow sojourn from the underside of her chin….

On the opposite side, Draco continues his ministrations, studying her face and body movements. Pleasure surges through him as he settles into more of a groove.

'There is something familiar about her' he decides, although he cannot decipher what it is.

_(sweat droplet travels from her chin to past the medial portion of her cheek)_

His thoughts begin to run together. He increases his hand speed.

'I don't know any strawberry blondes… not like her.. .'

_(from the cheek it follows the path of the lateral portion of the nose, heading for the forehead)…_

'Her voice has an edge to it… demanding'

* * *

**(Flashback)**

Two uniformed teenagers stood within a poorly lit corridor. A brunette was roughly held against the wall by a menacing male presence.

He smirked maliciously. "You think you know it all, don't you?"

The girl struggled with futility against his firm grip. "MALFOY! Get your hands off … **NOW**!"

Draco laughed softly at the helpless girl beneath him. "Pothead and the Weasel aren't here to protect you from me… and let's face it..."

He brought his lips within a hairbreadth of those belonging to none other than Hermione Granger.

"You don't want them to…"

**(Fin)**

* * *

Draco shouts in pleasure as his eyes pop open in slight surprise. She made him cum. 

'Merlin, it's her.'

_(the sweat droplet begins to trace a speedy path from the base of her forehead. It leaves her skin to finally head for the ground)_

'After all this time…. It can't be…'

He continues to finish, eliciting the remainder of his seed—never breaking contact with her eyes.

'Open your eyes.'

The couple came to rest at their nadir as the mystery woman cries out in orgasm, gyrating and bucking her hips. Feeling herself being filled with warm liquid, she yells in satisfaction.

"YES! YES! OH GOD!"

_(sweat droplet hits the carpet with a thud)_

Coming down from the overflow, she slowly opens her eyes and is greeted by the blurry outline of a stranger looking through the glass. She smiles inwardly, mind wandering.

'Ooh… we had a visitor the whole time.'

Still perched over the edge of the bed, she blinks once to clear her vision. It took all that was in her to not gasp at what she saw.

Even upside down, there was no way for her to mistake the man on the other side of the glass. Not in a million years.

* * *

**(Flashback)**

"You don't want them to…"

Hermione could feel Draco's breath tickle her lips. He was everywhere—and very dangerous. She had to be careful.

"Malfoy… don't do this."

"Don't do what? I told you Granger….stop assuming you know everything." And before she knew it, Draco had released her and vanished without a trace. She sighed a sigh of relief.

She wouldn't be so lucky the next time.

**(Fin)**

* * *

(Random thoughts flit back and forth) 

'Merlin, it really _**is** _her…'

'It's been so long, there is **_no way_** he could recognize me. I look so different.'

'No amount of camouflage could hide those eyes, that face…'

'He looks even more like Lucius. I never thought I'd see him with longer hair…'

'Six years…long time Granger…'

'Six years wasn't nearly long enough. Goodbye, Malfoy.'

Breaking eye contact, Hermione Granger sits up and dislodges herself from her male companion. She is confident in her anonymity, calmly locating and slipping on her red silk nightie. Done for the night, she decides to make her exit.

Still in a daze over his latest revelation, Draco comes out of his reverie just in time to see a flash of feminine calf go through the door. Smirking in anticipation, he leaps from the couch and makes a beeline for the exit.

He busts through the door and immediately scans the perimeter for any sign of her. Moving through the crowd in various stages of sexual merrymaking, he fails to find a trace of her until he turns the corner and spots her at a distance sitting at the bar. It felt like an eternity to get from one point to another.

Tingling with expectancy, Draco makes contact with his target, placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman turns around, frowning in confusion.

She is **not** Hermione Granger.

It is with this realization that Draco recoils his hand as if burned, turning around to retrace his steps. He wasted too much time, and knew now that he wouldn't find her.

Obviously, she did not want to be found—but it was not up to her.

Because what Draco wanted, Draco would get—and he wanted her.

Plus, he loved to solve a good mystery as much as anyone.

"You're on borrowed time, Granger." He said to no one in particular, and with that, confirmed his extended stay in Copenhagen; as he could easily set up shop here or anywhere else at will. The world was his oyster.

And he fully intended to crack this shell.

* * *

A/N: See Ch 2 for full comments. 


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry to tease, but this is an A/N:

Remember the no hard or fast rule or daily updates? Well, one of my family members hurt themselves and had to take a trip to the ER... and I'm stuck waiting on em hand and foot. She is my great-grandmother, so I dont mind, but I cant write and help her with everything at the same time... so...

I will be delayed on the updates unfortaunately, but I should be done by the end of the 1st week of January (hopefully). Holidays are tough when someone is ill.

Happy holidays to one and all,

NB


End file.
